For the second day of the Springfield Steampunk Festival (not that I’m sharing these shots a month late or anything), I decided to go ’20s. Still not steampunk, I know, but I feel the Jazz Age heeds the spirit if not the letter. The same subversive spark animated both eras. The one happened to manifest in science, the other in speakeasies, but you get my point. The Roaring ’20s are at the very least a spiritual cousin to the age of steam.
Nothing I’m wearing is authentic ’20s, of course. The dress, a gem of a $15 find, is probably ’30s or ’40s. The hat is ’60s, and everything else is thrifted. Still, there’s a bit of flapper in the air. Reminds me of late-stage Downton Abbey. Can’t you just see Mary strutting London in this?
One thing that’s always screamed Jazz Age to me is lack of coordination. Midcentury stuff has a real matchy-matchy vibe, what with the suits and perfect curls. To me there’s something bohemian about the teens and ’20s – throwing together whatever colors and patterns you please and somehow making it work. There’s a lot going on here. Textures, prints, embroidery – cook ’em in a stew and you’ve got something, dammit. Wearing four different patterns at once feels ’20s regardless of my clothes’ authenticity.